Friday 3 May 2024

STEVE BIKO AND THE ENVISIONED SELF

 

STEVE BIKO AND THE ENVISIONED SELF

Recently, on a visit to South Africa, I met a priest who was deeply concerned about where the country was going. Elections are due this month and he felt there was widespread anxiety about the ability of whoever wins to deliver what is needed. Unusually, he was critical of Mandela. While he recognised the sacrifice he made and the achievement of freedom he facilitated, he felt Mandiba did not follow through after 1994 in inspiring people to have confidence in themselves and hold their new rulers accountable. He looked back to Steve Biko, killed by the regime in 1977, as one who had devoted all his powers to developing a sense of who they are in black people.

Passing through Durban’s King Shaka airport, BIKO’s name stared at me from a book stand and I purchased a 40th anniversary edition of his I Write What I Want. I remember the excitement at the time when Biko’s affirmation of ‘black consciousness’ first came to our attention. It took time to understand what he was saying and even today, 47 years later, we still don’t tease out the hidden strength contained in his teaching.

Basically, Biko held that far worse than the physical restraints and humiliations of apartheid was the psychological imprisonment of which blacks were often unaware. He analysed the ways in which blacks unconsciously measured themselves against white standards and acted as though white was right. He applied his lens to society, culture and religion and found each of them encroaching on black self-understanding and warping it. South African society is still divided today though differently than fifty years ago. Here are his words:

Once the various groups within a given community have asserted themselves to the point that mutual respect has to be shown then you have the ingredients of a true and meaningful integration. At the heart of true integration is the provision for each man, each group to rise and attain the envisioned self. Each group must be able to attain its style of existence without encroaching on or being thwarted by another. Out of the mutual respect for each other and complete freedom of self-determination there will obviously arise a genuine fusion of life-style of the various groups. This is true integration. (p. 22)

Biko was deeply affected by the society he found himself in at university and, in effect, abandoned his medical studies to devote his energy to working out what it was that caused his unease. He had the courage to follow through on his reflections, share them with others and refine them – and eventually die for them. At first the regime thought he was on its side by his emphasis affirming blacks and so seemingly separating black and white, but they soon came to realise he was doing this to strengthen blacks so that they could, in time, confront the white takeover of their country.

He wrote,

In all we do we always place Man first and hence all our action is usually joint community oriented action rather than the individualism that is the hallmark of the capitalist approach. We always refrain from using people as stepping stones. Instead we are prepared to have a much slower progress in an effort to make sure that all of us are marching to the same tune. (p. 46)

Do politicians, in their quest for power, respond to the hidden, hardly conscious, desire of people to ‘attain to their envisioned self’?

5 May 2024                  Easter Sunday 6B         Acts 10:25…48             1 Jn 4:7-10       Jn 15:9-17

Saturday 20 April 2024

DANCING HIGHWAYS

 

DANCING HIGHWAYS

A tangle of dancing highways greets the visitor to Gqeberha. There is no orderly clover leaf intersection but roads rising and falling in seemingly random fashion. Urban architecture can have a beauty hidden unknowingly in the designer’s plan which only emerges afterwards.  Art is always beyond even the artist who created it.

I have spent a lifetime in Zimbabwe but only four weeks in South Africa. What astonishes the visitor is the beauty of the mix. Besides the obvious difference of colour ranging from black to white with every variety in between, there is the difference of speech. Again, beside the difference of languages there is the difference between those comfortable in one of the common languages, English, and those who labour in it as something strange and foreign. And yet again there is the way people draw on rich cultural heritages on how they relate to you that defy description.

Then the visitor steps back into history; the early people of this mostly dry sub-continent, the disturbing arrival of settlers from Europe with their differences and rivalries, the wars and politics that disrupted the lives of the people and shifted them from place to lace and finally the climax towards the end of the last century when the long struggle for freedom was finally resolved and the people agreed to work together for a common future.

But the way to that future keeps dancing before our eyes like conflicting roads swirling around one another. One struggle has been resolved but another is now underway. And this one is not unique to South Africa but common across the earth. How do we make all these roads converge and build something just and good for all people?

Driving in the Eastern Cape this week, we met a man, a dog and a flock of sheep. We were astonished to see the man instruct the dog to nudge the sheep to open a way for us. The harmony between all three built on a shared knowledge and confidence, however different, touched us for a moment. There is always a Sunday after Easter when we celebrate the image in John, chapter ten, of Jesus as the shepherd. From earliest times the Church has loved this image. It is so simple - and grounded in our experience. The shepherd knows his sheep, each one; he cares for them and opens a way for them. He will do anything for them – even to losing his life. The sheep know his voice and follow him.

It is a simple image. God know us, each one of us, and offers life ‘to the full’. He calls us to take up the task because it is not just given. It calls for our response. Our journey goes up and down and may seem to go nowhere. But in the tangle, there is a purpose.

21 April 2024        Easter Sunday 4B    Ac 4:8-12    1 Jn 3:1-2    Jn 10:11-18    

Friday 29 March 2024

ISRAEL’S SONG

 

ISRAEL’S SONG

 

Many bulls have surrounded me,

fierce bulls of Bashan close me in.

Against me they open wide their jaws,

like lions, rending and roaring.

 

Like water I am poured out,

disjoined are all my bones.

My heart has become like wax,

it is melted within my breast.

 

Parched as burnt clay is my throat,

my tongue cleaves to my jaws.

 

Psalm 22 describes Israel in her anguish and Jesus in his suffering. It is Good Friday. But reading it, thoughts may go to Gaza and how appropriate the words are on the lips of the Palestinians. Day after day we read of and see their sufferings on our screens and most recently the malnourished and starving children. Do these pictures reach Israeli screens? The reverse of fortune, where the Jews who suffered so much now inflict suffering on others, is painful, even unbearable, for a watching world. How is it possible we ask for a people who themselves faced persecution, incarceration, starvation and death, to perpetrate these same things on others, especially if those others are the very people with whom they have lived – with a degree of mutual toleration - for two thousand years?

 

The answer does not lie with the events of October 7th last year. It began long ago but more specifically when the reasonable desire of the Jews to return to their ancient homeland was so badly handled by the British, the Palestinians and Israelis. Modern Israel was born of war as ancient Israel was. The language of the bible about the conquest of the promised land is vicious. But that was then. Now is now. We live in an age where slowly, painfully and even grudgingly, we are discovering that we are one human family and we have to learn to get along together. The United Nations, with all its weaknesses, is a majestic lighthouse, showing us the way. But we ignore its ideals so often and prefer to founder on the rocks of competition, hatred and distrust.

 

The vulnerable are simply crushed. The Tablet this week, reminds us of the words of Thomas Hobbes, a seventeenth century philosopher, who wrote that without a sovereign authority to administer a social contract - something the UN stands for today but is not yet empowered to be - life proceeds with ‘continual fear and danger of violent death; (for men, women and children it is) solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short’. The Tablet is talking about Haiti where all government has collapsed, but it could just as well apply to Palestine/Israel where no social contract has ever existed since the day the Israelis came in force in 1948.

 

Huge efforts are being made to establish a ceasefire. It is in the interests of everyone. Peace in Ireland grew out of a Good Friday accord. We pray that this Easter, some progress can be made towards a lasting peace in the land where Jesus walked and talked and became a light to the nations.

 

Good Friday, 2024

   

Wednesday 27 March 2024

THE DEATH OF HOPE

 

THE DEATH OF HOPE

We simply cannot separate the paschal events from what is happening now in our world. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German Lutheran pastor who was executed by Hitler, criticised his fellow Christians for worshipping God on Sunday and killing Jews in the camps on Monday. They separated their faith from their relationship with others. ‘It is not some religious act which makes a Christian what they are’, he wrote from prison (July 18, 1944), ‘but participation in the suffering of God in the life of the world.’

‘Participation in the suffering of God.’ If we ever thought of God as standing outside the world and observing what is going on from a distance, we can surely be disabused of that now. God is in the world standing alongside all who are in agony. God was not an onlooker when South Africa went through its most traumatic years. He was there in the cells of the prisoners and on the streets of townships where life could end at any moment. And eventually after decades in prison and a whole human process of struggle was complete, Nelson Mandela stepped out into Freedom one January morning in 1991.

Not so in Russia. No one took Mandela’s life away while he was in prison but Russia’s equivalent, Alexei Navalny, was not allowed to serve out his long years in prison. He was killed one day in February this year. And now Russian people are saying, it was not just Navalny who was killed. Hope was too.

The death of hope is one of the most gut-wrenching images of what hell must be like. Dante wrote over the entrance of the gates of his Inferno: ‘Abandon hope all you who enter here.’ This is the inferno which the Russian people are experiencing. It is horrible. A variation on the words could be, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’

Easter tells us that he hasn’t abandoned us. he is still there with us. No matter how dreadful our experience is, God is there at our side. It may not seem like it. It may not feel like it. But God is suffering when he sees his people suffering. He cannot stop the suffering. He cannot remove the tyrants of this world. That would be interfering with our freedom. We have to work it out – as the South Africans did, as the Russians will do. No one can stamp out freedom. In the 1940s the South African government tried to control the influx of Africans to the cities but there was almost a note of humour in Oriel Monongoaha’s account of the result: ‘The Government was like a man who has a cornfield which is invaded by birds. He chases the birds from one part of the field and they alight in another part … we squatters are the birds. The Government sends in its policemen to chase us away and we move off and occupy another spot.’

The same is happening in Russia. For ever Navalny who is killed, a hundred Navalnys are born. Hope cannot be killed. That is the message of Easter.  

30 March 2024     Easter night           Ex 14:15ff   Rm 6:3-11   Mk 16:1-8

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday 22 March 2024

YOUR LIVES ARE HIDDEN

 

YOUR LIVES ARE HIDDEN

Katalin Kariko, a Hungarian migrant to America, has written a book about her experience of pursuing her passion in medical science research. She had a hard time getting to America and an even harder time keeping her place in the university which accepted her. She wasn’t earning her keep, they said, she was not writing scientific papers. Eventually she turned up one day at her place of work to find all her papers and files dumped outside her laboratory and her place taken.

But there were those who knew what she was doing and her book, Breakthrough, describes her eventually joining a team which discovered the vaccine for COVID. She went from rejection to acclamation. Her hidden solitary struggle was recognised and tears came to her eyes when she was one of the first to receive the vaccine, she herself had done so much to find. Her life was hidden but then it was revealed.

She was a migrant, one of those the rich world wants to bar from entry. When the Irish migrants made their way to America 150 years ago, they were not all desperate and starving. Recent research into their bank accounts in New York by Tyler Anbinder led to him too writing a book, Plentiful Country, in which he shows many of them had money and were enterprising people who soon found their way in America and became examples of the ‘American Dream.’ Among them were the ancestors of four American presidents.

When Jesus set his face towards Jerusalem and embraced his terrible destiny, no one, not even his closest companions, had any idea what he was doing. It was hidden from them. It took them time before they could begin to grasp what he did and then their hearts ‘burned within them’. We can be blind to what is going on around us. People have their hidden lives. These will be revealed one day for even the littlest of our brothers and sisters. Despite all the evil we know too well, our faith and our cultures tell us to reverence others and recognise that, even if in a hidden way, most people do the best they can and contribute to the progress of our human family. ‘Their lives are hidden’; the words from Colossians 3:3 tell us and they conclude, ‘with Christ in God.’

What happened in what we call ‘Holy Week’ is hidden from the eyes of many today. And even those who remember it can blunt the story so that it no longer has an edge. It is the drama of the climax of Jesus’ life but it is also the light that shines in the darkness of each of us. It is our story.

24 March 2024     Palm Sunday        Is 50:4-7     Ph 2:6-11    Mk 14:1-15:47

Friday 15 March 2024

‘IT WILL DO HIM NO GOOD’

 

‘IT WILL DO HIM NO GOOD’

Growing up in Ireland and hearing of a man who stole some cattle or made a quick pound by dubious means, I remember my father used to say, ‘It will do him no good.’ It was a definitive judgement with no blurred edges and I often think of it when I observe people doing something that is obviously against the common good.

For months now we have observed the unremitting bombing and killing in Gaza. Do the people who are responsible for the death of thousands of innocent children and helpless adults really think all this will ‘do them some good’? Do the overwhelmingly powerful perpetrators of this killing and destruction not realise – what must surely be obvious – that they are condemning themselves to living perpetually in a prison with armed guards everywhere. I was in Israel in 1972 and even then, there were signs of security everywhere. That was more than fifty years ago and I believe the situation has steadily got worse. People like to go to Israel to study Scripture but they have to take care wherever they go. What is this policy doing? Is it doing anyone any good?

It is baffling when we think these are the very people who inherited the covenants, the ancient scriptures especially the psalms:

          The Lord is kind and full of compassion,

Slow to anger, abiding in love.

How good is the Lord to all,

compassionate to all his creatures.      (Ps 145:8)

 

Compassion! Where has it gone to in our world? The inheritors of these words seem full of revenge and hate. Will it do them any good? What are they achieving?

 

As we approach Holy Week, we approach a mirror in which we see ourselves. We look into that mirror and see the bitterness, pain and suffering we, human beings, inflict on one another. We see the hardness of heart of the High Priest and the elders representing the Jewish people; the incomprehension, indifference and unwillingness to seek understanding of Pilate representing the gentiles. Jesus can make no headway with any of these people. All they can say is, ‘Away with him! Crucify him!’ And Pilate washes his hands, turning away from the choice he could have made to bring justice. So Jesus goes on his way, carrying his cross. His ultimate and definitive offering of himself mysteriously breaks open a way to a new world. His death is not the end. It is more like a beginning. But a beginning we have to welcome with head and heart.

 

17 March 2024            Lent Sunday 5B          Jer 31:31-4        Heb 5:7-9      John 12:20-23

  

Friday 8 March 2024

AND NOW THE GOOD NEWS

 

AND NOW THE GOOD NEWS

‘Bad news is good newsgood news is no news, and no news is bad news.’ I do not know who said this but it pops up on Google. I suppose it is a reflection on what ‘sells’ on the media. Bad news sells. Good news doesn’t. Maybe we can take a leaf from Google and apply it to Lent. The emphasis is on the coming struggle in Holy Week. Jesus is in the heart of it to his death. Bad news.

We can also see the struggle in Zimbabwe where bad news is our daily fare. Or we can focus on Gaza where a whole people are being slowly killed by man-made starvation. Or we can again recall the killing of Navalny in Russia where again a whole people’s hopes were dashed by a single act.

It is half-time in Lent and we stop for a moment to draw breath and reflect on the first half. It was dominated by the failures of people, ancient and modern, to live up to their calling though an under current of hope was never absent. Now we have a chance to look at our progress and the Church suggests to us that we look at the good news.

The first word of the Mass today is ‘Rejoice!’ What is there to rejoice about? The first reading tells us ‘our ancestors ridiculed God’s messengers, despised his words, laughed at his prophets.’ But it ends on a high note: a pagan king is roused to restore the temple in Jerusalem. The second reading tells us we are ‘God’s work of art’ and in another place God is likened to a potter who keeps deleting his work when it doesn’t satisfy him. What does satisfy him is ‘the one who lives by the truth and comes into the light.’

I know a man who used to carry a copy of the psalms in his pocket as people now carry their cell phone everywhere. He grasped the message of the psalms with their different moods, often gloomy to mirror our own, but often full of tender love:

          Truly I have set my soul

In silence and peace.

As a child has rest in its mother’s arms

even so my soul.  (Ps 131)

 

We cannot visualise the future of Zimbabwe or Gaza or Russia. But we can be sure that the time is coming when he can ‘rebuild our temple’ and, in our case, it will at last have the marks missing from the 1980 version. So it will be with Gaza and Russia. There is nothing more powerful than human beings once they set their mind to something. It may take time but it will happen. Lent assures us.

 

10 March 2024    Lent Sunday 4B                   2 Chr 36:14…23                 Eph 2:4-10                            Jn 3:14-21

 

 

Friday 1 March 2024

CLEANING THE TEMPLE

 

CLEANING THE TEMPLE

After the comforting scene of multiplying the wine at the marriage celebration at Cana we suddenly have the violent spectacle of Jesus chasing the traders from the temple. ‘Zeal for your house devours me’, as the psalmist put it. Jesus is provoking the people to realise ‘there is something new here’ as Mark had written in his first chapter. Religion had been tamed, degraded, into something ‘we can live with’, something we can bend to our purposes. The sting of its demands had been drawn, made harmless.

The people are shocked and the leaders outraged. ‘By what authority have you done this?’ Jesus isn’t going to get into an argument with them. He raises the level of the confrontation by referring to the new temple. ‘Destroy this one and I will raise another in three days.’ They don’t understand and neither do the disciples. They had to wait until Jesus rose from the dead.

It’s a dramatic moment, thrown at us in the midst of Lent. It expresses the extreme nature of the call to women and men to realise what they can be. There is a story on You Tube by the Russian writer, Tolstoy, about a poor cobbler who had one son left after his wife and all his children had died. He is in despair and sick with loneliness when this child too dies and he blames God for his misery. One day a man comes and the two talk and the cobbler shares his troubles. His visitor listens for a while and then invites him to believe God has a purpose for him.

The cobbler is touched and asks how he can discover that purpose. Ponder the book, says the visitor. The cobbler understands him to mean the New Testament and he starts to read – and ponder. Gradually he is touched by what he reads and he begins to look through the window of his little shop and notices the people outside. He sees an old man shivering from the cold and invites him in to sit by his stove and he gives him tea. He sees an old woman and her child with few clothes to keep out the cold and finds an old coat for her. He sees a child steal an apple and the fury of the vendor who wants the child chastised. He makes peace between them. The old cobbler ends his days a happy man.

Lent is that time when we invite Jesus into our shop. We ponder his coming to us, born as one of us, cold, hungry and lonely as we can be. We see how open he was to the poor and how he transformed their lives. He did not promise them riches or power or status. But he promised them deep joy and peace in their hearts, ‘a peace the world cannot give.’       

3 March 2023       Lent Sunday 3B    Ex 20:1-17  1 Cor 1:22-25     Jn 2:13-25

Saturday 24 February 2024

UP A HIGH MOUNTAIN

 

UP A HIGH MOUNTAIN

A young boy plays outside my window. A hedge divides us but I hear his shrieks of delight and sometimes his wails of distress. His mood changes rapidly.

Twenty years ago, Russia wanted to join the North Atlantic Alliance and 59% voted to join the European Union. Two years ago today, they invaded Ukraine.

Hidden away in the early chapters of the Bible is an account we read each year as Lent gets underway of Abraham climbing a mountain to offer his son Isaac in sacrifice. His offering is accepted and his son is spared.  As Lent gives way to Easter, Jesus carries his cross up the hill of Calvary. His offering is accepted and he endures a terrible death. Stat crux, the Carthusians say, dum volvitur orbis.  The cross stands still, while the world goes round.

Everywhere, in the scriptures, there are echoes of the cross. And everywhere in our daily news these echoes reoccur. Alexei Navalny’s death makes no sense otherwise nor does the death of 7,000 children in Gaza.

Each second Sunday of Lent we read of the ‘high mountain’, where Jesus showed himself in glory to Peter, James and John. But the conversation was about the cross. The disciples had no idea what he was talking about and neither do many today. Mountains? Climbing a mountain raises you up, gives you a far and wide view. In Nyanga, in Eastern Zimbabwe, you can even drive up high and look about. ‘World’s View’ it is called. It is the bigger picture.

And the bigger picture is that our lives make no sense without the cross. It is the threshold we have to cross (that word again) one way or another. Alexei Navalny, while he was alive, reminded us of Nelson Mandela. Mandela survived. Navalny did not. Yet one thing they had in common was a sense of humour and a sense of humour means one has risen above the disputes and entanglements politics and indeed day to day life throws up. Navalny too went up a high mountain and there is no telling the influence he will now have.

Belief in the power of sacrifice is common to many cultures and I first came to know it when I was young and found it written on my uncle’s mortuary card when he was killed in the Great War: ‘a person can have no greater love than to lay down their life for their friends’. Lent is here, as I wrote last week, to lengthen our view; to see the destiny of humanity beyond the immediate view. It should be obvious to those dazzled by the power of weapons of war. But it isn’t. Human beings still narrow their vision and exclude compassion. They have no notion of how history will see their actions. Perhaps children understand.

25 February 2024  Lent 2B       Gen 22:1-18      Rom 8:31-34    Mk 9:2-10

Wednesday 14 February 2024

WIDEN YOUR SPACE

 

WIDEN YOUR SPACE

The word ‘Lent’ comes from Northern Europe. It describes a practice, dating from the early Church, of preparing for Easter and recalls the forty years the Israelites wandered in the desert and the forty days Jesus spent preparing for his mission. In many European languages the word used is not ‘Lent’ but a word that derives from ‘forty’. Norman Tanner, an English Jesuit, gives us a sample,

Quaranta (Italian), Cuaresma (Spanish), Carême (French). The English word ‘Lent’ has another, very beautiful derivation. It comes from the Anglo-Saxon (early English) word meaning to ‘lengthen’. Lent comes at a time when the hours of daytime are ‘lengthening’ in Europe, as spring approaches, and so it is a time when we too can ‘lengthen’ spiritually, when we can stretch out and grow in the Spirit.

Isaiah urges us:

Widen the space of your tent, extend the curtains of your home, do not hold back. Lengthen your ropes, make your tent pegs firm for you will burst out to right and to left … (54:2)

The woman who cared for my parents in their old age once wrote to me during the dark, cold and often wet days after Christmas in Europe, ‘there’ll be a stretch in the evening from now until St Patrick’s Day (17 March).’ She was talking of the weather but that is what Tanner also points to – as an image of life in the Spirit. We are to stretch ourselves, lengthen our reach, in preparing for Easter.

And Tanner also makes a further point. You do not have to do anything. You just wait for the days to lengthen. So it is with Lent. Sometimes we think of Lent as a time when we ‘do’ things; as children we were encouraged to give up sweet things. As adults we are encouraged to give up excessive TV or internet exploration. These are good but the message here is to stretch our capacity, open our doors. Allow the Spirit to be heard in our hearts.

The forty days are to be seen as a time of receiving rather than doing, relaxing rather than achieving, listening rather than speaking. Where there are resentments, we stretch out our tent to build harmony; where there are quarrels, forgiveness. Anger gives way to patience, hatred to peace. These are gifts we receive. We cannot manufacture them on our own.

And these are the ways we prepare for the climax of the Incarnation, God ‘with us’ in the flesh. So much with us that he suffers all our grievous wounds. Carries all our burdens. Lent is a deeply joyful time. We are in the midst of struggle but victory is certain.  

18 February 2024  Lent Sunday 1 B    Gen 9:8-15  1 Pet 3:18-22      Mk1:12-15

 

Sunday 4 February 2024

LET US GO ELSEWHERE

 

LET US GO ELSEWHERE

The first day, as Mark records it, of Jesus’ ministry ends in triumph. ‘The whole town came crowding round the door.’ He was instantly famous and the disciples knew it and bathed in his reflected glory. They wanted more. ‘Everyone is looking for you’, they said and they expected him to go on building up his reputation.

He could be ‘The Prophet of Capernaum’. He could build a following. There could be a little ‘contribution’ for each healing. The money would roll in. No need for that laborious fishing all night in the dark, in the cold, in the wet. He could build a stadium, an amphitheatre, like the Romans did. And he could build a palace nearby. It would be great and we would get our share.

But, no. He said, ‘Let us go elsewhere’. He was not at all happy. They had completely misunderstood what he was doing. They delighted in the healing but he had not come just to work wonders, to enjoy status. He wanted to heal them in their deepest selves. He knew it would cost them a lot. And it would cost him a lot to show them the way. It would require them to change. That would be painful. But the result would be deep peace, happiness.

We have just emerged from 40 days of Christmas. The child in the arms of Simeon in the temple closes the infancy introduction of the Messiah. ‘This child is for the rise of many’ - if they get the message. If they changed their way of thinking. But there would be opposition - from vested interests.

Some understood. Slowly, they got the message. ‘Here is something new.’ They found joy in their new life. And this was what Jesus wanted. He did not want fame or fuss. He just wanted people to get in touch with the core of their being. To move from the tyranny of the immediate concerns of family, work, relationships – important as they are. He wanted them to ‘go elsewhere’, to go deeper, to begin to sense they are made to share in the divine life.

‘You believe just because I said I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than that!’ Nathaniel went ‘elsewhere’ with Jesus. He saw immediately he was the Messiah. He came to grasp he had to go beyond his Jewish traditions. He had to change. To grow. It was a tough journey, following Jesus. But he got the point. And the early Christians did too. And the Church was born. It still struggles with people misunderstanding. It always will – until the end.

4 February 2024    Sunday 5 B    Job 7:1-7  1 Cor 9:16…23     Mk 1:29-39

Friday 26 January 2024

WITH AUTHORITY

 

WITH AUTHORITY

Mark tells us, in his very first chapter, the people were astonished at what Jesus said and did. ‘Here is a teaching that is new and with authority,’ they said. The word ‘authority’ has a slightly negative taste to it. ‘Authorities’ are sometimes viewed as people who don’t do what they should do or do what that shouldn’t do.

Yet it is beautiful word originally coming from the Latin augere, meaning to grow. Authorities are people who help – or should help – people to grow. Authorities in schools are there to provide the environment where children can learn and develop. They must never be simply controlling. Their task is to enable, to encourage freedom.

Similarly in society generally, ‘the authorities’ – national and local – are there mainly to help people grow, develop and use their freedom. It is not their main job to control – though they do have some controlling to do. There are red and green traffic lights but the point is to keep the traffic moving.

The Pharisees had slipped into control mode. They loved inventing more and more rules and controls. They found it gave them power over the people and they were not interested that it also stunted people’s growth. What thrilled the people, as told in Mark here, is that Jesus swept away this attitude and replaced it with something quite different; freedom to expand their hearts, to grow.

Countless people in the gospels, like Mary of Magdala for example, ditched their old life and found hope and joy in the words and actions of Jesus. They were thrilled and crowded around him ‘treading on one another’ (Luke 12:1), in their enthusiasm. The gospel pages are full of ‘crowds’ attracted by him. They could not get enough of him.

Until … Until he started speaking about the cost of being a disciple. Then they started to go away. They wanted roses but they found roses come with thorns. They did not like that. And this is still the case. Real ‘teaching with authority’ includes embracing the cross ‘daily’. That is when real growth takes place. How pleasant it is to tell people what they want to hear. But it is often not the truth. The people of Mark chapter one had to learn the meaning of the cross. That is the whole point of the dynamic of his gospel. Excitement at first; hard truth later. The centurion, who saw him die, came to understand this (Mark 15:39).  

28 January 2024          Sunday 4B      Dt 18:15-20     1 Cor 7:32-35       Mk 1:21-28

Sunday 21 January 2024

A CARPENTER’S WORKSHOP

 

A CARPENTER’S WORKSHOP

What do you make of this? ‘Those with wives should live as though they had none.’ St Paul seems to be casting a shadow over married life (1 Cor 7: 29)! Yet the context tells us something else. His theme is ‘our time is growing short.’ We do not have much time. He is talking of having the perspective of us living a provisional life. We are not to live as though this life is everything.

True, we are called to live this live fully; to develop all our gifts, to enjoy using them, to enter fully into our relationships. But all these are not the whole story. We are to be like sailors with their eyes on the seemingly endless horizon, aware that there is another shore that will be revealed. No matter how satisfying our relationships and our activities, they are not the full story. We are made for something else.

There is a story, an amusing story, about Jonah and the whale. He runs away from the task he has been set and gets swallowed by a big fish. Surviving that, he has second thoughts and takes up the task and warms the Ninevites they have only 40 days left. Oddly, they believe him and every man, woman and beast begin to change their way of life. They respond to the bigger picture Jonah, the unlikely prophet, presents to them.

Coming to Jesus’ time, we have the story of him calling Peter and his companions. They too, like the Ninevites, ‘immediately’ – the word is used eleven times in Mark 1 – change their way of life. Nothing wrong with fishing. It’s a hard life but a rewarding one too if you succeed in catching fish. But Jesus says, ‘I have something bigger for you.’ There and then they drop everything and follow him. Surely, they should have taken time to consider the job offer? But no, they act immediately.

There was something about Jesus that was overwhelmingly attractive. Once they grasped it, they acted. And the early Church found it contagious and were full of expectation that the Lord would soon return. Everything else was provisional, precarious and a ‘valley of tears.’

We come to our own time. We are absorbed by our problems, our unease, our tears. The news is relentlessly horrible. We see no end to our wars and our problems – global, local and personal. Yet the gospel invites us to live with a deeper perspective. We cannot brush away our worries. But we can expand our vision to see the fuller picture. Our world is provisional – like a carpenter’s workshop. What you see is not the whole picture. A future is being fashioned that we can only imagine.                                                                                      21 January 2024                           Sunday 3B              Jon 3:1-10               1 Cor 7:29-31          Mk 1:14-20

Sunday 14 January 2024

WATCH THE CHICKENS

 

WATCH THE CHICKENS

The wise men from the east ‘saw his star’. There are many stars in the sky but they saw his star. They knew it was different. I have come across a privately, but beautifully, produced book on birds. The author, Stephen Buckland, writing at one point while describing Bronze Mannikins, branches off:

‘One of the things I love about birds is the way it requires one to look really closely at what is in front of one, at the world in which we live. Most of the time we do not really see what we are looking at. Watching birds - seeing not only how they look but how they behave, how they make their living on this planet – makes me engage much more deeply in that world.’ 

Stephen describes tiny differences between birds that most of us cannot see.

In our gospel today, John the Baptist is described as ‘looking hard’ at Jesus. It is the same Greek word that is used when Jesus himself first looks at Peter. It is stronger than just ‘looking’. It is more like intuiting, going beyond what is immediately obvious, having immediate insight of something deeper. Luke uses the same word at a more painful moment when, during the Passion, Peter denies knowing Jesus three times. We are told the cock crew and ‘Jesus turned and looked at him.’ The look pierced Peter and ‘he went out and wept bitterly.’    

In the Christmas letter, which Sr Gabriel wrote for the Children’s Home at Emerald Hill, Harare, she recorded the answers children gave to the question, ‘what do you like about our home? One answered,

I love to watch the chickens and see how mother hen takes care of the chicks by scratching the ground for worms or insects.’

Another wrote,

I like the different types of trees around the Home with the bright colours blooming at different times of the year; Jacarandas, Flamboyants, Tulips, Cassias and Frangipanis, as well as the local Msasa trees whose leaves come out in red, yellow and light green colours before they turn into their deep green …’

These children have, what Celtic spirituality calls, ‘rinsed eyes.’ They do not just see things and pass by. They stop and look hard. They begin to grasp that there is another world beyond the one that jumps at us from our little and big screens. That is what Eli eventually appreciated in the boy Samuel who, three times, heard the Lord call his name and thought, at first, it was only Eli calling him.

In the letter to the Hebrews, the twelfth chapter opens with the words, ‘With so many witnesses in a great cloud around us, we should throw off everything that weighs us down, like the sin that clings so closely, and keep running in the race that lies before us.’ We are to look beyond what we ‘see’. The father of the prodigal son looked beyond the actions of his errant son and believed that one day he would change his ways. We too are to see beyond the pain of the present in hope for the new future which is coming.  

14 January 2024          Sunday 2B      1 Sam:3…19       1 Cor 6:13…20       Jn 1:35-42

Thursday 4 January 2024

LOOK UP!

 

LOOK UP!

When I was small, I had weak eyesight and developed a habit of looking at the ground to see where I was going. I remember the exact place but not the year when my father said to me in exasperation, ‘For heaven’s sake, look up!’

If the ‘wise men from the east’ had been looking at the ground all the time they would never have seen the star. ‘We have seen his star as it rose and have come to do him homage.’ In a recent book called, Chastity, Reconciliation of the Senses, Norwegian monk and bishop Erik Varden writes, ‘It is time to effect a Sursum Corda, to correct an inward-looking horizontalizing trend in order to recover the transcendental dimension of embodied intimacy, part and parcel of the universal call to holiness’.

Sursum Corda, lift up your hearts, is an invitation we hear every time we participate in the Eucharist. Varden’s slightly forbidding language invites us to move out of ourselves and he does not hesitate to allude to sexual intimacy. Seeking the other – and not ourselves – is central to holiness.

This may all seem rather far away from the journey of the Magi to seek the new-born king in Bethlehem but the impulse is the same: it is the urge to set out and seek what is grasped in a hidden way when we speak of a rising star. Their search got entangled in Herod’s intrigues and they lost sight of the star for a while. But they soon found it again and Matthew tells us, ‘The sight of the star filled them with delight.’ They found the child and from then on, in T.S. Eliot’s poem, ‘We returned to our places, these kingdoms / but no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, / with an alien people clutching their gods.’

Epiphany means ‘showing’. The people who lived in darkness set out to see who it was that was drawing them to himself. They found him and they rejoiced. They were no longer ‘at ease’ with the old ways, Varden’s ‘inward-looking horizontalizing trend’. Their eyes were open. They were the Gentiles, our ancestors, of whom Simeon spoke: ‘the salvation which you have prepared for all the nations to see.’  

We live in Zimbabwe in 2024. We live in the midst of a flat earth where disappointment and frustration are never far away. We are absorbed in all the implications of an economy that only satisfies a minority. We can be trapped by the flat horizon of our daily lives. Yet we have rounded hills and granite mountains to remind us that the world is not flat but tapers off into an infinite horizon of which we are part. As seekers of Jesus, we can no longer be at ease in this old dispensation. While we grapple with our flat earth, we have the vision of a new earth drawing us forward. That is the good news of Bethlehem. It may be surrounded by rubble now but that is not the whole story.

Epiphany, 7 January 2024         Is 60:1-6     Ep 3:2-6      Mt 2:1-12